How it Began
by tjemd
Summary: Prior to the fateful events of FFXIII, but after the deaths of their parents, the Farron sisters had a fair bit of growing to do.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Having played FFXIII and read Episode Zero, I was still curious about what happened to Claire growing up to make her so intense. Her characterization is a dichotomy, and I wanted to figure out why. Also, for some reason, I have had issues with the story deleting itself. Apologies to those who have reviewed.

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><p><strong>How It Began<strong>

A lone figure stared out into the night. _All the desperate wishing in the world won't change the facts of the situation_, she thought to herself angrily. _They're gone, and I can't bring them back_. Closing her eyes against the combined onslaught of pain and sadness, the slender girl took a deep breath that was released in a sigh.

As she exhaled, the girl mentally hardened herself to the future she was now facing. She sat straighter, moving her crossed arms down to her sides instead. Wanting nothing more than to howl at the rage she felt, to shatter the window in front of her, she bottled the emotion deep inside her mind, shivering slightly at its intensity.

Gradually, Claire became aware of the presence of another behind her. Unable to comfort her sister amidst the maelstrom of emotions she herself was experiencing, she only stiffened, silent. Her eyes became shuttered as the figure moved to stand next to her.

Serah had never seen the hollow look in her older sister's eyes before her mother's death, never felt the kind of chill emanating from her now.

"Claire?" she greeted her timidly. "Claire, what are you doing standing in the dark?" The silence extended awkwardly as the elder…eldest Farron made no move to respond. Serah stepped closer to her, wrapping her arms around the older girl instead. Her sister froze again, refusing even to breathe.

"…I…I was…" The words came haltingly from the figure in her embrace. "Serah, Mom told me I'm supposed to take care of you. But…" After another pause, Claire sighed, seeming to collapse in on herself. "Serah, what are we gonna do?" The older girl rotated slowly, turning to give her younger sister a proper hug. The younger teenager could see the tears in her eyes, could see the pain she refused to release.

The arms around Serah tightened. "I'm going to take good care of you. I promise – no matter what happens." The hollow look was replaced with determination. Through her own tears, Serah smiled in return.

"And I'm gonna take care of you. After all, who's the cook in this family?" The younger Farron grinned briefly, before her bravado crumbled. Serah buried her face in her sister's shirt. The look on her older sister's face when she'd walked into the room haunted her. "Claire…tell me it's going to be ok," she begged, through sobs.

"Shhh…everything's going to be fine, we'll be ok," Claire responded softly, rubbing circles along her sister's back. Taking a deep breath, she repeated, "We'll be ok," not sure whether she was reassuring her sister or herself. Quietly, she continued into her sister's hair. "I love you, Serah."

The younger girl's sobs into her chest renewed themselves as Serah tried to respond. "I-I lo…I love…"

"Shhh…I know…it will be all right. We'll be all right." Claire rested her chin on her younger sister's head, continuing the reassuring pattern. "I'll take care of you, Serah, no matter what it takes. We'll be all right." She stopped rubbing circles in her back periodically, giving her a proper squeeze. "We'll be all right." The circular pattern renewed.

Gradually, the breathing pattern of the girl in her arms normalized. Whether she fully believed her or not, Serah trusted her older sister – she always had. The hitching breaths slowed, grew quieter. "But how, Claire?"

"Trust me." With those two words, the decision taken out of her hands, Serah gave in to her own exhaustion. Relaxing into Claire's arms, she lost consciousness, the past couple of days catching up to her. Kissing the crown of her younger sister's head, Claire supported her fully body weight. With a slight, "Oomph," she lifted the girl, supporting her just below the shoulder blades and at the backs of her knees. Even if she herself felt lost, stranded, she did not need to worry Serah with the same. The younger girl deserved better.

Once she had carried her sister upstairs and tucked her into bed, Claire strode back down and out the front door. No amount of staring out the window would assuage her growing restlessness. As the…she paused, throat threatening to close at the thought…as the head of the Farron household, she needed to make some very quick decisions. _Etro, please let me make the right ones,_ she thought to the night sky above her.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Claire contacted both her and Serah's schools to verify that they had been made aware of the situation. The cooing sympathy in the voices of the attendance office personnel renewed her grief, made the situation suddenly more real. <em>I don't have time for this<em>, she thought, as tears pricked the backs of her eyes again.

Both of the girls were granted two weeks off, provided that they followed up with the appropriate legal authorities and caught up with their schoolwork once they returned. Claire thanked the attendance office for the school's understanding with a surprisingly steady voice and hung up. Suddenly feeling dizzy, she leaned heavily on the kitchen counter in front of her, willing the helplessness away. _So that's that. It's time to be an adult_.

The first order of business was to contact the solicitor her mother's doctor had mentioned. "Summers and Pruitt, Attorneys at Law. This is Helen speaking. How may I help you?" the friendly voice of a receptionist answered.

"I would like to schedule an appointment with Mr. Summers, please."

"Is there a particular time you had in mind?"

Claire deliberated delaying, but answered honestly. "I need to meet with him as soon as possible."

"Mr. Summers has an opening this afternoon at 3:00 PM."

"Yes, please," she responded with relief.

"May I have your name, please?"

"Claire Farron."

After a brief pause, during which the receptionist took down her information, she said, "OK, Miss Farron. I have you scheduled for an appointment with Mr. Summers today at 3:00 PM. Do you know where our office is located?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

The receptionist finished with the standard, "Have a great day," and Claire heard the phone click. The nervousness in the pit of her stomach increased. _This needs to be done_, she thought resolutely.

Claire's next step was to arrange the funeral. Payment provisions would have to wait until she had met with the attorney, but scheduling and funerary style decisions could be made immediately. _Her skin was so pale_, Claire idly thought with a shudder. Remembering how thin and frail her mother's body had been in the hospital, she opted for a closed casket ceremony and asked that it be kept private. There were no other surviving relatives to invite, and few close friends. Their mother had been ill for a long time.

"How much do I need to give you up front, and how is payment handled? I'm…I'm sorry," she stuttered.  
>"I haven't spoken with my lawyer about finances yet, but have an appointment scheduled with him this afternoon."<p>

The response was a bit gruff. "No down payment will be necessary, Miss Farron. Our cost structure is as follows…" He explained the details to her, and she nodded, taking notes. Remembering the conversation with the doctor the day before about her expectations and responsibilities, Claire was surprised at how little she would be charged, though she kept her silence. "It's never easy to lose your parents, Miss Farron. You have my sincerest condolences."

Realizing suddenly that he was giving her a massive discount, Claire was torn between gratitude, pride, and pragmatism. "Thank you for your kindness, sir," she responded as soon as she was able to find her voice. After the conversation ended, Claire sat down heavily at the kitchen table. She leaned her elbows on its surface and buried her head in her hands, which were shaking. She tried vainly to get them to stop.

_Last night I couldn't stop being angry, and now I can't stop wanting to cry_, she mused wearily. _It wasn't this bad when Dad died. But I wasn't alone then, either_. There had been intense sadness, but she'd had her mother to comfort her. Claire remembered their last conversation. "Cute spoiled little girl," they'd called her when she was younger. She hadn't had the luxury of being spoiled or little in a long time. Serah cooked and did the grocery shopping while she cleaned and maintained the house.

Because their mom worked such long hours, Claire helped Serah with her homework, bought clothes and school supplies with her, and served as her confidante. The situation had never been perfect, and Claire was still a child herself, prone to moodiness and impatience despite her best intentions, but they had managed comfortably enough. But now…_Enough_, she chastised herself. Serah needed her.

Looking at the clock on the kitchen wall, Claire saw that it was already mid-morning. Serah would probably be waking up soon. Clenching her still-shaking hands into fists, she stood and walked up the stairs to Serah's room. Opening the door softly, she gazed inside at the sleeping form. Serah had been too young to understand when their father had died, and after a brief adjustment period of realizing he would not be around anymore, she had recovered easily. This loss, Claire knew, would be far more traumatic, even if there was little surprise in it.

Steadying herself momentarily, she sat next to Serah on the bed and began rubbing the younger girl's back like she had the night before. Serah shifted slowly, eventually opening her eyes and blinking into the morning light. "Claire?"

"Yeah, Serah, I'm here."

Confused about her sister's physical affection at first, Claire could see the exact moment when Serah remembered the past 24 hours. "What are we gonna do?" The question was asked in a tiny voice.

"We are going to keep living, just like we did yesterday, and the day before. Do you remember what Dad used to say?" Serah shook her head, eyes wide. Claire never talked about their father. "'It's not a question of can or can't. There are some things in life you just do.'" Claire paused for a moment, giving her a hug.

"I've already called the school, and you don't have to go back for two weeks. So what do you think about making some breakfast, Miss 'I'm a better cook'? I know I'm hungry, and you must be too."

Serah sniffled, but her voice was steady. "I'm gonna make you the best breakfast you've ever eaten, sis!" Suddenly squeezed in a little sister-shaped bear hug, Claire gave a genuine smile. For the first time, she believed they would be all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Gradually releasing her grip, Serah grinned up at Claire and bounced down the stairs. Now that she had a task to perform, she could focus on that and leave the decision-making to her sister. _Claire has always taken care of me_, she thought. _Now it's my turn to take care of her._ Humming slightly to herself, Serah gathered the ingredients for omelets and fruit smoothies. _I'll have to go grocery shopping for more fruit soon_, she thought, making mental notes.

When her omelet ingredients were mixed and waiting for the frying pan to heat up, Serah chopped the green leaves of her strawberries off and pulled out a blender. "There are some things in life you just do," she said out loud, repeating what her sister, and supposedly her father, had said.

Serah had never really known their father, as he had passed away when she was only four. She vaguely remembered playing games with him, but otherwise had no emotional ties to the man. _In fact_, Serah considered, _I don't even remember the last time Claire mentioned him_. Resolving to take advantage of her sister's sudden openness, Serah decided to ask Claire about their father when she came down for breakfast.

* * *

><p>After Serah walked downstairs to start cooking, Claire took a deep breath and decided to shower. Mentally tallying what she had left to do for the day, the knot in her stomach grew when she realized that her only remaining appointment was with the attorney. Picking up a towel and change of clothing mechanically, Claire turned the showerhead on.<p>

The doctor had said that there were programs for older teenagers like her to remain self-sufficient, avoiding the need for foster care or state guardianship. Among them was emancipation, but in order to qualify, Claire needed to prove she had enough income to take care of herself. She stepped into the spray.

And then there was Serah to consider. At only twelve, she wasn't old enough to get a job, not that Claire would allow her to do so regardless. _She needs to focus on her studies_, the girl insisted to herself. So there was the issue of guardianship to determine.

The steady stream of warm water slowly loosened her overwrought muscles, allowed her to think more clearly. Claire knew that she was not alone. Although uncommon, it was not unheard of for children to be orphaned, or even to raise themselves with state assistance.

In larger cities like Palumpolum or Nautilus, there were few wild animals around, but Bodhum was a much smaller, sea-side town close to the wilderness. Unwary children out camping with their families could get picked off by wild lobos, or more rarely the parents themselves could get hurt.

_But I never believed it would happen to us_, she thought with regret. _I don't know enough details_. If she and Serah ended up as wards of the state, would they be separated? _That's not an option_. As Claire turned the water off and dried herself with the towel, the smell of breakfast reached her nostrils. _I'll just have to ask the right questions_.

* * *

><p>Hearing the water stop, Serah began to set the table. Claire generally preferred to eat a light breakfast, but it was nearly lunchtime already and Serah herself was starving. As her sister walked down the stairs, Serah glanced up at her. "Breakfast is ready!"<p>

"I could smell it from the bathroom," Claire responded with a slight smile. "What are we having?"

Serah pointed the food out in turn. "I know that you like to eat something light, so I made strawberry smoothies. But you also have a lot to do today, and you mentioned you were hungry, so I also cooked omelets and toast for us."

Claire nodded in approval, saying, "Thank you," as she sat down to eat. Serah beamed at her.

After a minute of passing dishes back and forth, they settled down to eat. Suddenly impatient over wanting to know more about their father, Serah waited for the right moment. As Claire set her smoothie glass down, Serah looked up at her. "Hey, Claire?"

"Yes?" her sister responded, looking up from her plate as well.

"You mentioned that Dad used to say, 'There are some things in life you just do.' Did he say stuff like that all the time?"

Though she looked a bit surprised at the question, Claire recovered quickly. "Yeah, he was a pretty positive guy."

"What was he like?"

"He…" Claire stopped. "What do you want to know?"

Serah considered the question briefly, taking a sip of her smoothie. "What did he do? Was he around much?"

Looking down at her plate again, Claire remained silent for a long while. Eventually, feeling guilty, Serah tried to retract the question. "I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to-"

"No, Serah, it's all right." Claire interrupted her. "Just…give me a minute, ok?" The reassuring smile Claire gave her fell flat. "He, um, he had an easy-going attitude and he smiled a lot. Mom smiled a lot more back then, too." Her voice stilled momentarily, remembering the recent loss.

"Dad co-owned one of the supply shops near the beach, and he would always stop to chat with people who came by on vacation. When we were little, he used to take us with him so we could play in the ocean, although you were probably too young to remember."

Pausing for thought, Claire's face twisted into a soft smirk. "He was so silly. When Mom came by for lunch, he would close up shop and invite the customer he was talking to at the time out with us. 'I love to hear a good story,' he'd say. More often than not, they would accept the invitation, charmed by his friendliness. Everyone in Bodhum loved him.

"He taught both of us how to swim and went hiking with us most weekends. He would carry you on his shoulders since you were too small to walk." With a grin, she added, "And you loved to pull his hair. 'Fas'uh Daddy!' you'd say, rocking your legs. 'Like a choco'o!'" Serah flushed slightly at the teasing.

"But he was a good man, too, and went out of his way to help other people." Claire's voice became quieter, more serious. "One of my classmates got lost in the woods near the Sunleth Waterscape. He went with the party to find the boy, but was ambushed." She looked away.

Becoming intensely uncomfortable, and sensing the direction of her sister's thoughts, Serah cleared her throat. "So he was a hero!" she exclaimed, in an effort to retain the good mood.

The slight snort Serah received in response was unexpected. Claire's facial expression froze over. "Yeah. A hero."

Serah frowned at her older sister, missing the sarcasm in her response, but realizing her attempt at cheerfulness had failed. "What's wrong, Claire?" The older girl shook her head slightly, as if to clear it.

"I guess I just miss him," she said at last, refusing to look Serah in the eye. "But enough about the past – our food is getting cold, and didn't you mention needing to go grocery shopping today? We can pick up some more fruit and rice at the marketplace before I need to get to an appointment."

Successfully distracted, Serah quickly finished her meal and sprinted upstairs to change.

* * *

><p>"Well, if we're going to be out of school for the next couple weeks, we are going to need to eat at home for lunch. So we should probably get some extra coconut milk and…" Serah's voice idly chattered next to her as the two girls walked to the market.<p>

Badly distracted but trying not to show it, Claire nodded every few seconds and asked about one ingredient or another. "Do we have enough bananas, Serah?"

"Right, we'll need some of those. And we'll probably want to think about…" Serah continued talking while Claire's thoughts inevitably traveled to the past. Things had become exceedingly difficult once they'd lost their father. _Mom was crushed_, Claire thought sadly. Without their father's charismatic presence to keep visitors returning to the shop, business slowed, and although it was still profitable, Elise's heart wasn't in it.

"Where's Jim?" repeat seasonal vacationers would ask, and Claire would see her mother's body tense before she graciously answered them. _A real hero protects what's important_, she mused to herself. A year and a half after her father's death, the other proprietor offered to buy out the Farrons' half of the shop, and Elise agreed.

"Do you think we should get the shank steak or the rump roast?" The direct question broke Claire out of her thoughts.

Considering the two options, Claire decided on the latter. "How about the rump – we can use half for a stew and the other half for a roast? Then we'll have leftovers for the next week as well."

"That sounds good to me!" Serah replied. "Now let's go home."

* * *

><p>Once they'd put the groceries away, Claire began getting ready for her appointment with Mr. Summers. Uncertain about how formal she should be, and not wanting to come across as a naive schoolgirl, she wore a long skirt and collared blouse. Walking to the office, she wondered how the meeting would go. <em>Will he underestimate me because I'm too young?<em> Her lip curled in distaste. _Stop thinking like that, Claire. You're the oldest Farron left, so you need to be confident_.

All too soon, the law office loomed in front of her. Steeling her shoulders, Claire pulled the front door open and walked up to the receptionist. "Good afternoon, ma'am." She said, "I have a 3:00 appointment to see Mr. Summers."

"May I have your name please?"

"Claire Farron."

"Very good, Miss Farron. I have some paperwork for you to fill out. Here is a pen, and you can have a seat over there." The receptionist passed her the documents. "Would you like anything to drink: coffee, tea, water?"

Claire thought for a moment, but decided against adding anything to her already queasy stomach. "No, but thank you for the offer, ma'am."

The receptionist smiled at her and said, "Please let me know if you change your mind, Miss Farron."

Claire sat down with the paperwork, but found it difficult to fill out. She didn't know the answers to many of the questions, or felt they were incomplete – who was her guardian (she listed her own name), what was the purpose of her visit (to figure out guardianship, inheritance, or…she wasn't quite sure what to write). Claire could feel her palms start to sweat.

Noticing her discomfort, the receptionist called her back over to the desk. "Is everything all right, Miss Farron?"

"Yes, ma'am," Claire replied. "But I've never filled one of these forms out before, and I'm not certain what to write."

With a warm smile that helped her calm down, the receptionist told her not to worry about the paperwork and that Mr. Summers would be able to see her now. Claire thanked her and walked through the red mahogany door labeled "Summers."

Claire's first though upon seeing the attorney was that he radiated kindness. The portly older gentleman stood when she entered the room and walked around his desk to shake her hand. "I am deeply sorry for your loss, Miss Farron," he said.

"I will do what I can to answer any questions you may have and assist you in making the most informed decisions possible." At her confused look, Summers continued. "I have already spoken with your mother's doctor and am familiar with the situation." Significantly relieved, she gratefully shook his hand and sat in the chair he motioned towards.

"Now, to the first order of business. You have no surviving relatives or anyone close enough to raise you – is that correct?" She nodded silently. "Guardianship is a tricky thing. You see, it would not be difficult to convince a judge that you were old enough to take care of yourself. You are already in your second year of high school, and a few months shy of your sixteenth birthday. Your younger sister, on the other hand, is only twelve." Claire nodded, already aware of this.

"You have a few different options going forward, Miss Farron. The easiest would be for both of you to stay with an orphanage for a few years."

Claire spoke for the first time. "No, sir, that is not an option."

The older man sighed. "I didn't think it would be. Just remember that it is the _easiest_ scenario. And I don't imagine you would be amenable to sending your sister to one while you get things settled for her?"

She shook her head resolutely. "We stay together."

Summers gave her a gentle smile of approval. "Good – family is important. Now, to the issue of income. Are you familiar with the circumstances surrounding your father's passing?"

"Yes, sir. He was killed while trying to find a young boy lost in the Sunleth Waterscape."

He nodded again. "Because he was working in the capacity of a volunteer militia, his surviving children, that is to say you and Serah, were given a pension to help offset the cost of living. Your mother held it in trust for you in the event of her own passing. The current amount stands at approximately 9,600 gil, with an additional 50 deposited monthly per child until each of you turns 18."

Claire's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at her carefully. "To be fair, it may seem like a lot now, but considering the funeral expenses and overall cost of living, it isn't much – a thousand gil can disappear before you know it."

Claire had never been asked to help her mother pay bills, but she knew Mr. Summers was correct from her experiences with grocery shopping.

The lawyer smiled easily once more. "With that settled, your mother's medical expenses were being covered by her health insurance. You've no need to worry about forfeiting your home or other assets on that account." At this, Claire blinked. She hadn't even known to be worried. Her relaxed demeanor tightened up again. There was so much to be aware of, so much she didn't know.

"And you were listed as the sole beneficiary of your mother's will. She made note of her wish that the two of you remain together, and that you take care of each other." The echo of what her mother had told her in a hospital room only a week before suddenly blindsided the girl, and she had to fight back a wave of nausea. Spots danced in her vision.

Summers was kneeling next to her chair a minute later, holding a warm cup of tea to her hands. "There, there, child," he said. "Drink this." She felt the herb-infused liquid calm her nerves, allowing Claire to breathe normally again. When Summers had determined that she would not pass out, he returned to his side of the desk.

"As upset as you are and as weak as you feel right now, Miss Farron, you are handling the situation as well as anyone can be expected to at your age. I was blessed to have my parents well into my 50s, and it still hurt tremendously when they passed."

Claire nodded, swallowing thickly. "Thank you, sir."

"Would you like to continue, or would you prefer to postpone the decision-making process until another day?" The question was asked in a gentle tone.

Though she felt vastly underprepared, Claire knew this needed to be done. "I'm fine to continue, sir."

"If you're sure. You know the rudimentary basics of the situation, and we can get into more detail as necessary in the future. You do not need to be bombarded with facts right now." She gave a weak nod in gratitude. "It sounds like you want to stay where you live now and take on Serah's guardianship yourself. Is that a fair statement?" She nodded, with more emphasis.

Summers opened the drawer to his right. "Then the best thing I can recommend for you is to join one of these apprenticeship programs. They have different benefits packages and pay scales, and all of them will allow you to finish school." He handed her an envelope.

"You will have 90 days to verify your ability to take care of Serah with the court system. We can schedule an appointment after you get into one of these programs and go from there. That envelope also contains instructions for transferring funds out of your trust, and the forms you need to fill out for guardianship.

"In the meantime, I will work out the details for transferring property ownership to you, which will have to be delayed pending your emancipation status. You will also need to look into transferring utilities and memberships into your name.

"Do you have any questions?"

Claire shook her head, realizing in a daze that everything she had wanted to ask (and more) had already been addressed. "No, sir. Thank you for your time."

The lawyer watched her for a moment, appearing indecisive for the first time that day. "Here," he said finally, pulling out a pad of paper. "This is my personal comm number. If you or Serah need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Thrown off kilter by yet another unexpected act of kindness, Claire silently took the scrap of paper on her way out of the office.


	3. Chapter 3

Upon exiting the expensive office setting, Claire was left feeling cold, drained, and above all, furiously angry. Even though his guidance had been well-intended, Summers had limited her to a handful of options. _Orphan, ward of the state, or apprentice._ And he had made it clear that an orphanage was the "preferred" place for them. Summers had even given her a list of apprenticeship options, further defining her future.

All of the sympathetic glances and phrases, the special treatment, and the damned _paternalism_ irritated her. _I should be grateful_, she thought, _and I am, but…I'm not a child. Not anymore. Why do they all treat me like one?_ Her thoughts trailed to the attendance office, mortician, and lawyer in turn. _They don't understand that I'm not helpless. I'm not helpless_, she repeated to herself.

Frustrated, Claire decided against going home until she could calm her nerves. _There's no need to upset Serah, though_. Pulling out her comm unit, Claire sent a quick text update to her sister. "Done with the lawyer. Will bring home dinner." She thought about adding more information, or maybe a meaningless platitude, but decided against it.

The "OK! Love you!" that buzzed back at her in return gave Claire a few hours' reprieve and a humorless ghost of a smile. Looking at the envelope in her hand, Claire felt strangely ambivalent. She didn't know whether to take the attorney's advice and follow one of the prescribed apprenticeships or simply throw the sheaf of papers into the nearest flame. Choosing instead to put the documents out of her mind for the time being, Claire placed the envelope in her satchel and walked to the town square.

Sitting on the fountain's ledge, Claire saw a Guardian Corps soldier stroll casually by. Her thoughts were drawn to her father, and to her conversation with Serah earlier that morning. _He was a good man, but was he a good father?_ She'd always thought so, but then remembered what his passing had done to her mother. The familiar burning anger she'd barely concealed from Serah nearly boiled over. Claire didn't even realize she was glaring at empty space.

_You left us to play "hero" to some kid? You couldn't even save yourself_. Her derision combined with heartache and frustration over feeling so damned _helpless_ – the word burned acidic in the back of her throat – and Claire tore away from the fountain, running blindly in no particular direction. Her only desire was to escape the unwanted thoughts rushing through her mind.

Eventually, lungs burning, she crouched onto the balls of her feet, chest heaving with the exertion of breathing after running too long. Looking around at last, Claire saw that she'd gone well past Bodhum's borders into the southern marshlands. _I can't just run from my problems like this,_ she belatedly chastised herself. Spotting a nearby waterfall, Claire strode towards it and rested on the adjacent embankment. Pulling her knees to her chest, the girl stared moodily into the churning water, ruminating over the past few years.

* * *

><p>Heavy footfalls brought Claire's attention back to her surroundings. She watched as four soldiers jogged in formation across the marshland, seemingly in tandem. The one in front held his right arm up in a fist suddenly, and the other three soldiers immediately halted.<p>

Claire could vaguely hear the squad leader from where she sat. "…indicate it's three hundred yards out, at 2 o'clock." The other three pulled out their rifles and the group moved more sedately in the direction indicated. Wanting to see what was going on, Claire followed them from a distance.

When the leader raised his fist again, the other three opened fire. Claire heard the enraged roar before she saw the Beta Behemoth. A hulking gray monster with elongated horns, it was easily twice as tall as the soldiers in front of it without standing on its hind legs.

More upset than injured, it charged the group of four, who jumped in different directions, their movements clearly coordinated. Two of the soldiers suddenly glowed blue, jumping up into a pair of trees and shooting steadily at the behemoth from above. Under the onslaught, its rear right leg collapsed, seemingly unable to bear weight.

Growling vehemently, the behemoth swiped at the two remaining soldiers, forcing them to roll away.

"Rogers, grab a water AMP!" the leader yelled out to the third soldier, who reached into the pack at his waist. Pulling out a metal canister, he sprinted forward a few paces and threw it in the monster's face.

The blinded behemoth charged into a tree, lying stunned. The first two soldiers, glowing blue again, jumped down onto its back and fired into its skull at point blank range. It lay unmoving, and they holstered their rifles.

"Good job, men. Move out!" Taking point, the leader began jogging in the direction they'd come.

"Sir, yes sir!" the others responded, falling into their original formation.

Unseen, Claire could only watch in admiration.

* * *

><p>Not needing to feign her vastly improved mood, Claire walked in the door with one of Serah's favorite pasta dishes. Serah was sitting at the kitchen table writing in a workbook. The younger girl looked up and grinned when she smelled the meal. "Claire! You're home!" Serah closed the workbook and ran up to greet her, taking the bag of food and walking back to the kitchen.<p>

"I brought pasta," Claire said by way of greeting. "How was your afternoon?"

Beginning to set the table, Serah responded, "It was good. I know we don't have class for two weeks, but I didn't want to get behind in my schoolwork, so I asked my teachers what we would cover. How was your meeting with the attorney?"

Claire spoke more carefully, not sure how much to avoid. "He said we're going to be able to stay together and live at home the way we always have. I'm old enough to be your guardian, so there shouldn't be any problems. And mom had some money saved up, so as long as we're careful, we won't have to worry about that either." It was close enough to the truth.

Serah's eyes widened in excitement. "That's great news, Claire!" she exclaimed.

Laughing softly at the enthusiastic squeeze which followed, Claire kissed the crown of her sister's head again, relieved that Serah had not demanded more detail.

"So what material were you studying, Serah?"

The younger girl chattered excitedly as they ate, her story interrupted by mouthfuls of pasta. "This unit is based on the different resources the fal'Cie provide for us. Kujata, for instance…" The ensuing dinner passed quickly with talk of schoolwork, only interrupted by the clicking of forks against plates and the occasional contented sound from Serah. Afterward, physically and emotional drained, Claire excused herself for bed. Serah busied herself with the dishes. Only bothering to pull off her shoes, the older girl passed out within moments.

* * *

><p><em>The rain pelted down, drenching her clothing and making visibility all but impossible. A flash of lightning was quickly followed by the rumble of thunder, the storm directly above the girl, its intensity echoed in the vibration of the ground underfoot. Shivering more out of cold than fear of storms, Claire looked up at the hospital building in front of her. <em>

_Ineffectually attempting to steel herself, she walked in the front door, still shivering. The climate-controlled environment did little to warm her soaked garments. Exiting the elevator on the sixth floor, Claire turned right and walked briskly down the hallway. She had been here daily for almost four months now, and the receptionist and nurses gave her small smiles of recognition. Claire nodded slightly back at them, distracted by her desire to see her mother._

_Feeling something crumble inside at the sight of the older woman's pale form, Claire put on a brave smile. "Hey, Mom, how are you feeling today?"_

_"…Claire?" the voice was weak and confused. Claire suddenly felt guilty for waking her. "Yeah, Mom, I'm here."_

_"How was school today, honey?"_

_"It was good, Mom. I aced a test today, and Serah did real well too. She's making a lot of friends in middle school. In fact, she's in an after-school club right now; they're learning to make these arts and crafts out of leather." Claire was not naturally chatty, but made an extended effort to update her mother about their lives._

_The smile Claire received was warm, if frail, and she felt marginally less chilled. She reached up to hold her mother's hand. Feeling skin cooler than her own, and seeing the shadows under the still-bright, but somewhat glassy blue eyes, Claire's heart constricted. _

_ "Claire, you're drenched!" The girl looked down at her school uniform, ashamed for some reason._

_"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't think to bring an umbrella to school this morning."_

_"No, no, Claire, I was not scolding you and you know it. But you need to take care of yourself; you'll catch the flu!"_

_Catch the flu. That's what they had thought Elise was ill with at first: a simple bout of influenza. When she had failed to recover after a week, though, she went to the hospital and found out it was something far more serious._

_"If you get sick, too, who will protect Serah?" Horrified, Claire ran from the room._

As she woke up, gasping, Claire realized the moisture was just a cold sweat rather than rain. _Mostly_, she amended, swiping at her eyes. She crawled under her covers and tried to sleep again, hoping to avoid more nightmares.

* * *

><p>By mutual agreement, the two girls spent the morning looking over old photos and other mementos of their parents after breakfast. Some they would keep for themselves, and others they would leave with their mother at the funeral. Serah decided to keep most of the photos they had, electing to update her scrap book. She claimed the pictures helped her remember them better. Claire didn't argue, silently gluing as Serah directed.<p>

"Oh, do you remember this one, Claire? I was so scared up in that tree, but you showed me where to put my hands and feet, and by the time Mom snapped the shot, I think I was climbing faster than you!"

With a tight smile, Claire nodded, their mother's final words ringing in her head. _You're such a good big sister._

In the end, Serah brought a school project Elise had been particularly proud of and a candid shot of the three. Claire brought a book she'd read to them as children.

The funeral was held later that afternoon at the cemetery, with only Claire and Serah in attendance. As the preacher began a standard eulogy, bemoaning the loss of a woman so young to illness, Serah's sobs punctuated his solemn but generic statements.

Claire's nightmare still weighed heavily on her mind. She took Serah's hand firmly, squeezing slightly to reassure the younger girl. _I'll protect her, Mom._ Claire did not cry, even after they saw her casket lowered into the ground next to their father's.

* * *

><p>Master Sergeant Amodar was standing outside the building enjoying the morning air when Claire walked up to it. "Good morning, Miss," he said politely as she moved to open the door. "Is there anything I can help you with?"<p>

"Yes, sir," she responded, "I'm looking for the recruitment office."

He bunched his eyebrows together. "Are you here to pick up a form for your older brother, perhaps?"

Claire frowned as she turned to reply. "No, sir. I am here for myself." After a moment, her features smoothed. "My name is Claire Farron," she continued as she held her hand out in introduction.

_She can't be any older than 14_, the sergeant mused to himself. Amused despite his disbelief, the sergeant shook her hand. "Amodar," he said, consciously omitting his rank. "Well, Miss Farron, come on in," he spoke as held the door open for her.

Walking straight past the recruitment office, he led her to his own. "Would you like some coffee, or a snack?"

"No thank you," Claire politely replied. She sat in the chair Amodar motioned towards. _Her posture is too stiff. She's defensive_, he noted absently.

"Now, then, Miss Farron. What brings a young lady like yourself to the Guardian Corps?" His features settled into an amiable smile as he brought his own mug of coffee to his lips.

"I would like to join the Guardian Corps, sir."

"I had already gathered that much," he said with a chuckle. "Why?"

"The mission of the Corps is to protect and serve the populace. You prevent people from being hurt by wild animals or cie'th and maintain order on a day-to-day basis. I would like the opportunity to be a part of that mission." The words were precise and obviously rehearsed.

His voice was wry. "I am well aware of my job description, Farron – do you mind if I call you Farron?" She shook her head. "As I said, I know what we do. But you haven't answered my question." The words were tinged with humor.

Claire looked down, silent. _She wasn't expecting resistance._ He tried a different tack. "How old are you, Farron? 11?"

She visibly bristled a bit, but her voice remained polite. "I am 15, sir, and will turn 16 later this year." _Right about where I thought she was - a little older._

Amodar decided to get a few more details. "You still in school? What are your grades like?"

"Yes, sir. I get mostly A's and a few B's." Claire's features calmed again.

"You look fit. Do you have any experience with sports?"

"I ran in track my freshman and sophomore years, but don't have time for it anymore."

"How about job experience?"

"No, sir."

Taking a small sip, Amodar thoughtfully looked out his window, noting the colors of the sunrise. In his peripheral vision, he could see Clair shift uncomfortably. _You have no reason to enlist_, Amodar thought to himself. _If you really wanted to join the military, the smart option would be to finish high school, get your degree, and earn a commission. You have to know that. There's something I haven't hit yet_.

"You're young, Farron. Too young. Where are your parents?" Claire's posture didn't change this time, but her eyes gave away the girl's hurt.

"They're dead, sir."

At his automatic apology, Amodar noticed her face harden. _You don't want sympathy, eh?_ "You know there are other options, right? You have good grades, extra-curriculars. You could certainly get an apprenticeship. Hell, the state would probably sponsor you through university!"

Claire waited out his tirade and simply stated, "Yes, sir. I am aware of my other options, but thank you for pointing them out."

Amodar gazed into his coffee for a moment, assessing the situation and trying to gauge his own instincts. "Why are you really here, Farron?" the sergeant asked at last, coming full circle.

"To protect what's important to me," Claire responded with an indecipherable look in her eyes.

_It's as good an answer as any, and she'd make a fantastic soldier. But that piece is still missing._

He chuckled amiably again. "I meant it when I said you're too young, and it's not entirely due to parental consent. Basic training is difficult, and the technology you'll work with will stunt your growth if taught too soon."

Amodar paused momentarily. "We do have a program you should qualify for. It's called the Delayed Entry Program, or DEP for short. You are admitted immediately, and start earning your stripes from the rank of Private, but one of the terms is that you finish school.

"You will still take your standard curriculum – maths, sciences, and the like – but we substitute your electives and physical education classes with those of our choosing. In return, you will receive standard vouchers for food and housing, as well as a minimal stipend. It's normally a difficult program to get into, but most of the people who walk in here at your age are desperate, and they have nowhere else to go. By all accounts, you have good grades, strong upbringing, no criminal record, probably assets to your name?" The last two were questions.

Claire nodded in the affirmative at both. Shaking his head, Amodar picked up his phone. "Before we can do anything else, you're going to need a psych eval. It's standard operating procedure, nothing to be worried about. We can talk more afterward."

"I understand, sir," came the reply. Claire gave him her first smile as she stood to shake his hand again. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome, Farron. Best of luck."

* * *

><p>Amodar read the results of the psych evaluation, intrigued: <em>Quick-thinking and ambitious. Impact due to loss of parents minimal – will make full recovery. Shows potential to be a dedicated soldier. Recommendation: full DEP sponsorship.<em> He sighed, tossing the folder on his desk. _I knew all that already. _

Amodar knew he should assign Farron to one of the actual recruitment personnel, but something held him back. _She should be enjoying her last two years of school and worrying about what college to attend_, he thought to himself a bit sadly. Beginning an application package, Amodar signed the appropriate forms and wrote up his own recommendation. _But we can always use good people, and the Corps takes care of its own_.


End file.
